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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985025">Bright Eyes and Sharp Teeth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneHackist/pseuds/ArcaneHackist'>ArcaneHackist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chloe KNOWS, F/M, Monster forms, To Be Continued, just testing if people like this before i continue, monster lucifer, not currently updating, slight blood, teratophilia (eventually)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:43:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneHackist/pseuds/ArcaneHackist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer claws his way up from Hell, quite literally. They tried to stop him, but here he is, in all his glory on Earth. Problem is, he doesn’t quite have the energy to make himself look human yet.</p><p>Chloe has an existential crisis or two, and attempts to make sense of said inhuman.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker &amp; Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. White Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe’s driving to work when she sees him. Down one of those few nice roads with trees on one side that lead to untamed pebbly beach. She’s got the windows down, listening to the pouring rain as a drop or two carry themselves into the car on the wind. She had a case involving a little girl yesterday. The weather seems appropriate.</p><p>The man claws his way painstakingly over the white line on the side of the road, and Chloe swerves into the shoulder to stop almost on reflex alone. She takes a moment to assess him before she gets out and crosses the twenty feet to him.</p><p>He’s bloody, that much she can tell from here, said white line turning violent shades of pink and red underneath him as he stops to take a break. He needs help, and Chloe jabs the button for her flashers, grabbing her first aid kit and sprinting up to him.</p><p>She stops about five feet away, unable to really process what her eyes are seeing.</p><p>What she thought were black pants are really wiry fur, continuing from the shock of curly black on his head in a thin line down his spine. He’s got a little tail, not unlike a deer.</p><p>Just where his forehead meets his hair are two small curved horns, and she almost didn’t notice their ridges in her sweeping assessment of him.</p><p>She knows where the blood is coming from, now. Two stumps of some kind of appendage at his shoulder blades, messes of blood and bone and red feathers. She remembers a scene in one of Trixie’s favorite superhero movies and shudders. </p><p>But people don’t have wings, right? Or cloven hooves, or horns, or the deep matte black claws sprouting from the tips of each of his fingers. When he growls deep and turns weakly to look up at her, his eyes are red.</p><p>“I’m going to help you, okay?” she tries, pulling the foil blanket from its wrapping and trying to approach him as slow as she can. </p><p>She sees the whites of his eyes as he blacks out.</p><p>———————</p><p>He was heavy, and very very naked, and not suited for a hospital with what is very much not cosplay stuff on his body. And yeah, maybe she’d had a bit of a crisis and pulled on his horns a little. So sue her. </p><p>Chloe had wrestled him into her backseat and into some of Dan’s old jogging pants, wrapping the foil blanket around his shivering form to get him back to her house. She called into work and spun a mostly-truthful story about yesterday’s case being too much, and dragged him up the sidewalk and into the living room.</p><p>It’s where he is now, sprawled on his side on the couch. She’d thought his ankles were broken, for a bit, then realized they were jointed like an animal’s. He’s so long. All limbs and lean muscle, and attractive despite the very real horns sprouting from his forehead. </p><p>The stumps had stopped bleeding in the car, and already look better, defying whatever bit of normalcy she’d had. He’s healing, and pretty quickly, and she’s terrified of what this... thing will do when he wakes up on her couch. Chloe swallows her fear and starts to wipe the drying blood off of his body with a damp cloth. On her third time rinsing it in the sink, he wakes up.</p><p>She knows that not because she sees him get up, but rather because she hears the cllipping sound of what are undoubtedly his hooves on her wood floor— fuck, this is the weirdest day of her life.</p><p>When Chloe turns slowly from the sink, hands raised, she takes in his stance, and is reminded of when she was taught about canine body language in her training.</p><p>He’s standing in the far corner, looking between her and the door. His hackles are quite literally raised, the fur in a twitchy mohawk all down his back. He wants to bolt, but seems to be considering his options.</p><p>And then, surprisingly, he speaks. “Watter taal praat jy?”</p><p>The words are deep and guttural, spoken in a growl that has all the hair on her own body standing up in response. Wordlessly, Chloe shakes her head, because it sounds like a question.</p><p>“Français? عربى? български? English? íslenskur..?” he starts, and she realizes a few words into the changing accents that it’s a list.</p><p>“Wait wait wait, english! I speak english!” she frantically tries, at the only familiar word.</p><p>“English.” he repeats with a nod, and... sniffs the air. “Human. I’m on Earth.” he murmurs, and she almost laughs.</p><p>Yeah, Chloe didn’t really expect a British accent. She really needs to stop being surprised by things today. </p><p>“You were hurt, I brought you somewhere safe.” she states, and tries not to let her voice shake. God, this is crazy.</p><p>He looks down belatedly, amused. “And clothed me. To what do I owe this kindness?”</p><p>“I’m a police officer, I’m supposed to help... people. What- who- are you? I just don’t-“ she cuts herself off from inevitably rambling on about today, and horns, and tails, and hooves. </p><p>“You’re asking for my name, I presume. Lord Morningstar of the Seven Circles. But, as I am in your home, I suppose you shall call me Lucifer.” he drawls, and his eyes rake over her body in a way that makes her feel like a prey animal rather than a conversational partner.</p><p>“So... Earth?” she begins, leaning back against the counter, bloodied rag forgotten on the floor. “Sounds like you’re surprised to be here, the way you said it.”</p><p>His face screws up into something angry, something hateful, and she shivers. “I did not expect my departure from Hell to be partially thwarted by my siblings. Though the loss of my wings is a tether to my Father that I will not miss.” he hisses.</p><p>She notices Lucifer’s canines are oh so long and very, very sharp. This is the worst time to be reminded of her vampire kink.</p><p>“You’re... Hell... Lucifer... you’re the Devil.” she breathes, and his eyes light up. He nods gleefully, watching her internal breakdown with rapt interest.</p><p>Chloe Jane Decker has been an atheist since she started losing teeth and performed an investigation to find out the tooth fairy wasn’t real. </p><p>And yet, before her is a very real manifestation of the actual Devil, horns and all, real living proof of there being somewhere to go after you die. He’s wearing grey sweatpants that don’t even reach his not-ankles, and is standing in her living room.</p><p>Right.</p><p>“Are you... hungry?” she asks, feeling surprisingly calm considering the situation. “And your back. I didn’t know what to do about those, if I should bandage them-“</p><p>“I guess I could indulge. Been a while since I’ve had real food.” he grins, and steps further from the corner. “My injuries will heal shortly.” He seems to demand her attention, filling the whole room with his presence. Regal. </p><p>Kingly.</p><p>She steps even further back when Lucifer moves forward, and he notices. </p><p>“Ah, apologies. I don’t currently have the energy to conjure a glamour for myself lasting longer than a moment. I’ve heard this form can be quite... offputting, though it’s better than my other one.” he explains, sidling over and settling into one of the barstools. </p><p>Chloe nods, resists the urge to run, and starts to make him a sandwich.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cubs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trixie meets Lucifer for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucifer continues to make adoring comments about her hospitality as she cooks, and then just continues to cook because he keeps eating and looking at her with those deep red eyes that say he’d much rather like to eat something else.</p><p>Chloe doesn’t know what sense that alluring and hungry gaze should be taken in, but she’s sure if she was less of a person she’d be bearing her throat and letting him tear it out.</p><p>Somewhere around the second breakfast sandwich and sixth egg he starts to ramble a little.</p><p>“...Hospitality’s a dying thing. Gets worse every time I pop up here, I swear. Now the Celts and the Pagans, they had it all right. Let someone in, feed them, clothe them, let them leave when they’re ready, invited or not. What a lovely bunch. And then later they’d show up on your doorstep, and you’d do the same. Quite like my system of favors, I’d say. I don’t deal in souls as some believe, such a sticky business, that-“</p><p>“People don’t sell their souls to you?” Chloe asks, breaking up his monologue with a genuinely interested question.</p><p>He looks like she’s slapped him right across the face.</p><p>“...You were listening.” he mumbles, absolutely dumbfounded.</p><p>“Well yeah, generally when people talk to you you’re supposed to listen to them. Hospitality, right?” She repeats, and his answering smile is so warm it nearly knocks her right over.</p><p>“If you must know, no. I don’t deal in souls, never have. People pledge their loyalty to me in life and end up in Hell like they asked, but I have no bearing on it. It’s a one way thing.” he explains, in that shockingly nonchalant way one would discuss the weather.</p><p>“Why are you so surprised I listened to you? You’re supposed to be the king down there. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of... people to listen to you.” she asks, cocking her head.</p><p>The malice that sweeps across his face in a wretched torrent makes her stomach lurch up into her throat with fear. She white knuckles the counter, resolutely keeps her knees from shaking, but darts her eyes down to his empty plate. His reply is flat, calm, and measured. When he starts to speak and she looks up, the anger has stretched his pupils vertically into ragged diamonds.</p><p>“Demons do not take well to rule. They are lawless. The lower castes are beasts of violence, and the higher only slightly more dignified.” he pauses before he continues, and she sees a bit of sadness flit across the disgust his face takes on as a mask. “The ones that fell with me in the beginning are wild and untamed things, now. Creatures braying at the obsidian gates to be released back skyward to the city that condemned them.”</p><p>Chloe’s breath is shaky, mind filled with the images of monstrous men with bat wings clawing at black rock.</p><p>“I keep them down. Keep the demons satiated. Chain the beasts of the sandy wastes and spend my days patrolling the veil. So no. No one listens to me unless I speak with the voice of Hell itself, darling.”</p><p>She eventually gets well enough of a handle on herself to reply to him. “...Don’t think I’d want to hear that.” she murmurs.</p><p>He laughs. A bright and giddy little chuckle in a voice slightly too deep, sending a chill down her spine. The hair on the back of her neck stands up. </p><p>“I’m really starting to like you.”</p><p>She doesn’t know what she thinks about that.</p><p>———————</p><p>His final tally is four breakfast sandwiches, eight eggs, seven pieces of toast, two apples, and half a large box of strawberries.</p><p>And no, despite his knowing smirk, Chloe resolutely did not stare at those dangerous teeth while he ate the strawberries, thank you. Or... maybe a little. The rest, though they looked mostly normal, are rounded flat with a little point at the center of each. Unnaturally white.</p><p>Lucifer’s sat in the armchair in the corner, facing the room, all the doors in sight. It seems to make him calmer that way. She notices more animalistic behaviors in him the longer she spends with him, reminding her of her friend’s dog who had anxiety. </p><p>As they sit here, across from each other in companionable silence, she can see it now in the way his eyes scan the room every once in a while. They fixate on things that move behind her, more specifically the shadow of rustling leaves cast by the slowly emerging sun. He plasters himself to the chair shoulder to hip despite its curve, protecting his back.</p><p>He looks her resolutely in the eye every time they speak to each other, and despite not really being afraid of him it makes her want to look away nonetheless.</p><p>The front door rattles, swings open, and hits the doorknob protector on the wall with a bang that shakes her to her bones.</p><p>“Mommy! Daddy says I can’t stay with him today because of work, he dropped me off here he wouldn’t even walk me to the door-“</p><p>Lucifer, the second the door had cracked open, had lept up and backed himself right into that corner he first ran to when he awoke. Eyes wide, he scents the air and relaxes visibly. </p><p>“Who’s your friend mommy? He’s got horns!! That’s so cool, is he doing a halloween costume?” she rambles, walking closer, and Chloe’s mom instincts propel her into action. She sees Lucifer put his guard back up when she stands, but she’s too busy thinking ‘She cannot get close to him-‘ to really care about that. </p><p>Chloe sweeps Trixie into her arms, stepping back and to the side to put the couch between them. </p><p>“Right.” he gruffs, and Chloe laughs a little hysterically.</p><p>“I’ve no interest in children. I detest them, actually. You can put your offspring down.” he states resolutely, rounding the chair again to settle into it with the stiff shakiness of adrenaline.</p><p>Trixie, though confused, nods. “He seems nice, mommy.”</p><p>Chloe sets her down so slowly that her daughter actually moves to kick her in the shin. </p><p>Once free, she runs over and plasters herself to Lucifer’s leg, resolute in her goal of climbing into his lap. She’s six, but still in the stage of always wanting to be held. </p><p>He doesn’t push her off, doesn’t curl his lip in disgust or do anything awful she knows from her pitiful biblical knowledge. He’s hands off, content to let her sit there in his lap and look up into his sanguine eyes. “Hello, spawn.”</p><p>Trixie giggles, and Chloe carefully seats herself back on the couch as close to them as she can get. Trixie reaches up to touch his horns, and Chloe’s about to reach out with lightning speed to stop her little hands when Lucifer... chuckles.</p><p>“Forgot how grabby little cubs like you are. Fine, satiate your miserable curiosity so I can be left to my own devices.” he grumbles, and leans down so she can grab and pull and feel the ridged black horns all she likes. And no matter how hard she tugs, his head doesn’t move an inch. </p><p>Once she’s done with that, though, she stares up at him again. “Your eyes are pretty.” she states, then moves back and climbs down, running full speed the few feet between the pieces of furniture to launch herself into Chloe’s stomach. She’s so preoccupied with whatever she just witnessed that she lets it happen, bearing her daughter’s attack with a soft ‘oof’.</p><p>“You said you detested children.” Chloe murmurs blankly, and Trixie suddenly laughs.</p><p>“Look, he’s got goat hooves!!” she grins, pointing with both hands to each of his feet. </p><p>“To be quite clear in my correction, they’re boar’s feet. I abhor goats.” he sniffs indignantly, and turns his legs to show her the three inch spur behind each hoof. Yeah, that’s... terrifying. </p><p>“But the horns.” Chloe argues, pointing to her own forehead.</p><p>“Blast it. I have many animal features that come and go that I will not explain, but none of them have to do with goats.” he whines. “They’re antelope horns, though downsized considerably.”</p><p>“Okay, you can’t stop there, because now I’m interested.” Chloe argues, and looks down when Trixie tugs on her shirt.</p><p>“Are you going to introduce me, mommy?” she asks with a bright grin. “Aren’t you supposed to do that first thing?”</p><p>“Right. Trixie, this is... Lucifer.” she stutters.</p><p>“Oh, like the Devil?” her daughter gasps.</p><p>Lucifer grins. “Exactly.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trixie is one of those characters that just NEEDS to be included in a fic like this. And yeah, I promise there’s drama inbound, but you gotta get that sweet stuff first.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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